


And The Stars Screamed Before Us

by idrilhadhafang



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Birthday, Canon Compliant, Category May Or May Not Change, Creepy Snoke (Star Wars), Dreams and Nightmares, Evil Snoke, Fusion of Star Wars Legends and Disney Canon, Kylo Ren Backstory, M/M, NaNoWriMo, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Snoke Being a Dick, Torture, Tragedy, future explicit sexual content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-01-18 09:28:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21273836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang
Summary: Ben Solo was on the verge of his nineteenth year, and Snoke knew it all too well. He had been keeping an eye on the boy long enough, after all. Watching, waiting. Keeping an eye out and biding his time. And now…The elements aligned. There was an old saying on Snoke’s homeplanet that said that the elements would align in time, and everything would be certain from there. He had been keeping an eye on Ben Solo long enough. Guiding him, guarding him, protecting him as best he could, in time for him to become who he was born to be. Now…now it was time he stepped out of the shadows.A 2019 NaNoWriMo based on the Rise of Kylo Ren comic announcement.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Ben Solo, Poe Dameron/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. The Supremacy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author’s Notes: First chapter of my NaNoWriMo proper. Trying to meet my word count even as I submit this.

It had been years since anyone would have even suspected something close to the remnants of the Empire in deep space. And yet, in the shadows of the Unknown Regions, the ship known as the Supremacy lurked, watching, waiting, a silent leviathan looming against the stars.

The inhabitant of its throne room, Supreme Leader Snoke, sat on his throne, dressed in a long, gaudy gold robe that others wouldn’t have been able to take him seriously for at first. Looks were deceiving, however. Snoke knew it himself. He had spilled the blood of many enemies in the past, and even now, when his time was running short, he was not someone to be trifled with.

Of course, that was the problem, wasn’t it? The fact that his time was running short. There was one, he thought, that could fill the position of being Snoke’s heir. The one who could be the perfect balance between Light and Dark. Raw power, unlimited potential — being the sort of man that even Vader couldn’t be.

Ben Solo was on the verge of his nineteenth year, and Snoke knew it all too well. He had been keeping an eye on the boy long enough, after all. Watching, waiting. Keeping an eye out and biding his time. And now…

The elements aligned. There was an old saying on Snoke’s homeplanet that said that the elements would align in time, and everything would be certain from there. He had been keeping an eye on Ben Solo long enough. Guiding him, guarding him, protecting him as best he could, in time for him to become who he was born to be. Now…now it was time he stepped out of the shadows.

He could feel his apprentice meditating not far from him. Even as he did, he reached out to her, over the Bond that they shared. The Bond between Knight of Ren and Supreme Leader was, after all, a remarkable thing. He had formed the Bond with Ben Solo when the boy had been no more than a youngling. It was for the best, of course. To look after him, to protect him.

Arca Ren entered the throne room. The Master of the Knights of Ren, she was dressed in armor that Snoke couldn’t help but find unnecessary. It wasn’t like Vader’s armor where it served some sort of functionality. Arca had once said that the armor was a symbol. “It gives hope to our allies and makes our enemies cower in fear,” she said. Snoke could not say he had much use for hope. Hope had not helped him. Arca’s devotion to the cause was almost simplistic. Too easy, in the sort of love for others she had where she would most likely move the stars for someone who she barely knew. It would destroy her, Snoke knew. It would consume her.

“The hour is near,” Snoke rumbled. He sat on his throne almost like a Jakku bird perched on scrap metal, surveying its surroundings. “I’ve trained you, taught you all I know and all I have learned. My heir is drawing close.”

He could feel how affronted Arca really was. “Have I outlived my purpose?” she said.

“I am far from a young man, Arca Ren. My time already grows short, at least by the standards of my species. By the standards of your mayfly-like existence I have long to live, but by my own standards…my time is running out.” A beat. “What I need is balance. Ren. The perfect synchronicity between Dark and Light. The Jedi and the Sith are but a piece of the Force. Like looking at the galaxy through a crack in the door. To find the meaning of unity, of grace…that is what it means to be a Knight of Ren. The boy may be a piece of a puzzle that I am drastically missing.”

“So that’s what’s making you drop everything? The idea that you have an answer.”

Snoke tapped his chin. “Perhaps.”

He could still feel her affront, and more than that, her disappointment in him. What did Arca expect, in the end? Did she expect them to become friends, somehow? To be a Knight of Ren was to be truly alone. That Snoke knew.

Arca tilted her head. “What’s so special about him?”

“Do you doubt me?”

“Nothing of the sort.” Arca said. “Is it because of his bloodline?”

“In a way,” Snoke said. “The Skywalker bloodline has always been a powerful one. More than that, he represents Ren. Ren at its peak. Balance.”

Arca was still. Snoke could not read her expression under the mask, of course, but he couldn’t deny that she seemed disappointed somehow. She would see how everything fit in, in time. She would understand.

“I see.” Her voice seemed almost brittle with disappointment.

“Everything serves ren. You will see.” Snoke paused as he spoke. “We’re setting a course to known space. I say it’s time we made the stars scream before us…don’t we?”

A nod from Arca. And on his throne, Snoke smiled, almost sharklike, as he contemplated what was to come.


	2. Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The shadows seemed to surround Ben even as he jolted awake, flashes of his most recent nightmare all but replaying in his head. Except it had seemed too lucid, too clear to be a nightmare. When one thought of a “traditional” nightmare, they thought of stuff like rancors with lightsabers chasing them. Anything like that. Even as Ben looked around his room, trying to reassure himself that yes, he was in his room and not all but imprisoned behind a mask…

The mask. It had felt almost like he had been forced into some sort of tunnel vision. Narrowed, constricted, forced to look through the galaxy through some sort of crack in it. But he could see more clearly right now. He could see, and he wasn’t behind some sort of mask burning cities or anything like that.

Force willing he didn’t want to be.

Even as he turned on his light and picked up his datapad to start reading — some sort of comedy about a girl at a university on Coruscant. Ben wondered what that was like sometimes, to have a life that wasn’t defined by the Force and people telling you how powerful you were until you got sick of it — he doubted that he wanted to go back to sleep. Sleep, simply, wasn’t an option for him. If he slept, he saw the mask again. If he slept…

_There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no chaos, there is harmony…_ Even reciting all of that in his head, though, Ben couldn’t say it helped. Neither did the idea that Jedi didn’t have nightmares, actually.

***

The sun rose, painting Yavin in shades of pink, orange and yellow, something that Ben couldn’t help but appreciate despite the fact that he had had such a bad dream. He was grateful for the mornings, if he was to be perfectly honest — it seemed like a clean slate after such a bad night. It was one of those things that even as Ben dressed for the day, he was tired, but he supposed he’d deal with getting caf even as he got to the mess hall. Dressed in his usual white Jedi robes (sometimes he wondered if white was really his color, but then again, he supposed they would work as training robes. It wasn’t like the color white meant anything unless you were really sanctimonious), he headed up the path to Luke’s Jedi Temple. It was a safe path, all things considered — a gentle rise, then a gentle fall, then more of a flat path towards the sturdy-looking Academy that was still in progress.

Uncle Luke was in the process of building that Academy. There were only twelve students so far, and no Masters yet (Ben wondered if it would be like in some of those comedy holos that Dad liked sometimes where the interviewees were hilariously unfit for the position, then chastised himself mentally for being mean), but Uncle Luke was really trying. Even as he headed to the mess hall, he got himself caf, as well as food that looked like Dagobah threw up, before he headed to his seat with two of his friends, Alora and Mike.

He hadn’t met Alora and Mike until later, but they were two of his friends inside the Academy (Poe Dameron had been his first friend, and one of his best friends, though Ben was wondering lately if it was more than that. He couldn’t bring it up to Poe, though; it wasn’t like Poe would feel anything more for Ben than seeing the kid that he met at the Academy looking for his dad), and he was grateful for them. Mike sent a quick look Ben’s way, a reassuring grin. “You okay?” he said.

“Rough night,” Ben said.

“Oh.” Mike tsked sympathetically. “I feel you, Ben. I haven’t been sleeping well either.”

Alora nodded. “I’m just hoping that it was a bad dream — then again, I shouldn’t worry about that. I mean, you’re nineteen, Ben! Happy Naming Day!” Even as she forcibly changed the subject, Ben couldn’t help but wonder what she was hiding — but, he supposed, pressing the issue wasn’t really an option. He doubted he wanted to bother her about things that were troubling as is.

“Yeah. Nineteen.” Ben sighed. “I feel old already.”

“Don’t be melodramatic, Ben,” Mike said. “You’re nineteen. It’s not like you’re Master Yoda or something. Or, stars help you, Palpatine.” A beat. “Wow, that joke really missed its mark. Not funny at all, sorry.”

Ben sighed. “It’s fine. It’s just…” He trailed off. Bad dreams didn’t make a monster. That he knew. And yet…

Alora sighed. “Hey, we’re gonna turn nineteen soon. And Poe’s twenty-two. I mean…look we so old to young eyes?”

Ben did snort at that. “Don’t go quoting Yoda at me.”

Alora shrugged. “I’m just saying, Poe looks good for being an old fogey at twenty-two.”

Ben snorted again. “Fine, nineteen isn’t old.” A beat. “Poe’s more than just being good-looking though. I mean, he’s kind, funny, brave, talented, loyal…”

_Too Light for me_. It sounded self-pitying, Ben knew, and maybe being a self-pitying jackass was yet another one way ticket to the Dark Side. But there were times when Ben wished that he was like Poe, everything he was. Maybe that was another reason Ben was fascinated with Poe — because he was everything Ben wasn’t.

Mike cracked a smile. “Getting serious, are you?”

“No. I just admire him.” Ben sighed. “I wish I could be like him.”

“You’re great, Ben,” Mike said, more seriously. “Honestly, if anyone says otherwise…well, they wouldn’t graduate the crèche, really.”

Ben wondered what that would be like even as he returned to his food.

***

Helping his uncle store Jedi artifacts was a bit difficult. Storing the holocrons wasn’t bad, not really, but storing some of the texts on the other hand…even as Ben stored a particularlyheavy, bulky text on the Clone Wars era on the shelf, he said, “Well…on the bright side…my muscles are getting one hell of a workout.”

Luke’s lips twitched a bit. He looked tired, but not necessarily grumpy. His uncle seemed to like his time with Ben a lot, even if he seemed to be getting more discouraged by what he read in the Jedi texts and whatnot. “Yeah, I know.” He sighed. “I was thinking of letting you off at the Archives early, Ben. I mean, it’s your Naming Day. I may be a harsh boss, but I’m not heartless.” His voice was lighter on the last sentence, though.

Ben raised an eyebrow, if only playfully. “You’re my boss now?”

“Well, no. Otherwise I would be accused of nepotism if I had you work at the Archives.”

Ben couldn’t help but feel his lips twitch a little. Then, “Uncle…do bad dreams mean you’re a bad person?”

Luke nearly dropped his next text, but regained himself in time. “No. Of course not. I mean…dreams are complicated. Sometimes they can be visions of the future, like what happened with your grandfather.”

“You told me a little. About him being scared of Grandmother dying.”

Luke nodded. “But sometimes dreams don’t mean anything. I had a dream once about being in a puppet show, but I doubt that it means I’m going to quit my job as a Jedi and take up puppetry. Or that I’m a puppet in human skin.”

“Or are you?” Ben joked.

Luke snorted. “My point is, Ben, dreams can have many different meanings, but they don’t determine your alignment. And they’re not permanent. Eventually they fade.” A beat.“Are you taking anything to sleep? Setting up a ritual, anything of that sort?”

Ben shrugged. “Sure. Reading, art…”

“That’s the important thing. Your brain’s wired from the day and needs to calm down. And definitely stay away from datapads — apparently the blue light from them makes it even worse.”

Ben nodded. It made sense, he supposed. Maybe he could look for things that let him go to sleep easy. Look for texts, for example. Anything that would help him sleep easy, assuming that was possible.

***

Ben was already heading down the path tohis hut, let off early from his work at the archives, when he bumped into Poe. Well, all but literally if he was to be perfectly honest; Poe’s hair was windswept and messy, in a way that really made him look more endearing, more beautiful, more…able to be reached. Ben had loved this beautiful, talented, compassionate, funny, brave man since…well, since they were both children, actually.

“Happy Naming Day, Ben!” Poe smiled brightly, and Ben couldn’t quite ignore the fluttering in his chest. The sort of pattering that suggested, really, that whatever he felt for Poe wasn’t just the worship of a little boy feeling lost on a new planet away from his parents.

“Thanks!” Ben managed to say. He wondered, idly, how many octaves his voice went up in that moment.

Their moment of silence — almost giddy, dizzy silence, when Ben wondered what he was going to say next — lasted long enough to make Poe clear his throat, seemingly a bit bashful. “So,” he said, “You doing anything for your Naming Day?”

Ben shrugged. “Well, my uncle let me off early working at the archives…”

“Well, good.” They walked down the path together, and Ben couldn’t help but be drawn to how disheveled Poe looked. How beautiful. “I mean, good to hear that your uncle’s nice about this,” Poe continued. “He’s probably proud of you. His little youngling becoming a man…”

“Don’t remind me,” Ben said wryly.

“Hey.” They paused, Poe looking up at Ben. “I was nervous about turning nineteen too. Don’t worry about it. You’re going to have a great Naming Day, believe me.”

He clapped Ben’s shoulder. Ben shouldn’t be looking forward to another touch from Poe, a touch to his shoulder, and yet here he was. He could all but feel his heart fluttering in his chest even as Poe made that friendly gesture, and he wondered, exactly, how to tell Poe that lately even things like this were all butmaking him want more.

“You wanna spend your Naming Day at my house?” Poe said. “I mean…I’m not having you spending your Naming Day by yourself, y’know. Special day like that…”

“That an order?” Ben joked.

Poe laughed. Ben couldn’t help but be transfixed by it — the flash of white teeth, the crinkles around his eyes like even his eyes were laughing — before Poe regained himself. “Just a request,” he said. “A suggestion. One friend to another.”

Ben nodded, after a while. Sometimes he swore that with his new squadmates, like Jessika Pava, Temmin “Snap” Wexley and others, Poe would find himself too cool for Ben. Ben Solo, who had a too-large nose and too large ears, who couldn’t even voice how he felt for his best friend without feeling like he was all but paralyzed. “I’d love to,” he said.

That, at least, was how he found himself roped into going to Poe Dameron’s house to celebrate turning nineteen.


	3. Starlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe tries to make Ben’s Naming Day a great one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

BB-8 was excited to see Ben, of course. Even as Ben entered Poe’s house that he’d had ever since he’d moved out of his father’s house (Kes Dameron having raised Poe since Shara Bey, Kes’ wife, died when Poe was a kid), the orange-and-white BB unit rolled over to Ben and Poe both, beeping excitedly. The two young men knelt next to the BB unit, and Ben couldn’t miss that radiant grin of Poe’s even as he called BB-8 his “buddy”. Kriff, Ben wished that Poe didn’t seem so untouchable in that moment, like he was somehow a higher being that Ben couldn’t even begin to compare to. Sometimes Poe seemed almost contagious in his happiness, and as Ben murmured his hellos to BB-8, he almost wished he could say what he felt out loud. To say something. He only wondered if he would ruin their friendship, lose Poe, as a result of all of it.   
  
He must have been too obvious because Poe turned to look at him. “You okay?” Poe said, softly.   
  
Ben nodded. “Of course I am.” Was it the idea of Poe choosing to stay with this mess of a man that threw him off so much?   
  
“Good,” Poe said. “I mean, you’re young. Tonight’s for you, Ben. Don’t worry about anything else.”  
  
The way he smiled at Ben like that — stars, Ben doubted that he wanted Poe to stop looking at him in that way.   
  
“Thanks,” he said.   
  
_You’re young. _Sometimes, Ben couldn’t help but not necessarily feel young. Sometimes he couldn’t help but feel like he was something that people wouldn’t even begin to understand, something that they’d be frightened of if they knew the truth. The teenage boy with star maps in his eyes and knowledge that would no doubt frighten other people. The teenage boy who had walked among the wreckage of a devastated planet in his dreams, only to wake up the next morning and have to pretend that everything was okay. Like he hadn’t seen blood red skies and fire, and heard screaming.   
  
“Hey,” Poe said softly. He stroked along Ben’s shoulder in that moment, and Ben couldn’t help but want more of that gentle touch. Just between friends, he thought, and yet he couldn’t put into words how much he wanted more than that. If he somehow ruined everything…  
  
Besides, what if he screwed it all up? What if Poe was too wonderful, too good for him? It would be a miracle, he thought, if Poe loved him half as deeply as he loved Poe.   
  
“I’m fine,” he said. “Night’s been a bit rough.”  
  
The way Poe looked — it was like he would take away Ben’s nightmares if he just asked.   
  
“It’s not your fault.”  
  
“You mean a lot to me, Ben.” Kriff, but those words shouldn’t have made his heart flutter like that, with such hope. “Really. Truly. You have no idea how much you mean to everyone.”  
  
Ben swallowed. Sometimes he wondered.   
  
“Let me help,” Poe said.   
  
Ben smiled faintly at him. “You always manage to help me, Poe,” he said. “And I’m not just saying that either.”  
  
The sound of a comm ringing snapped Ben out of that moment where they seemed so close, when they seemed almost about to do or say something, stars knew which.   
Ben walked towards the comm in that moment and was greeted by the hologram of his father. Even looking at the hologram of his father, Ben could admire the fact that even though his father was getting older, he still had a sort of handsomeness and dignity that Ben wished he could have as he got older. It was one of those things he couldn’t help but be jealous of.   
  
“Dad!” Ben said. “Hi!”  
  
Han Solo only grinned broadly. There was something about that broad smile that was enough to make Ben feel at ease. It seemed that no matter what happened, Han Solo was always happy to see his son. Ben wished he didn’t have to get himself in this trouble or that, that things could be stable, but he was grateful for Han nonetheless. Leia too. And Luke. Uncle Lando too, though Uncle Lando was mostly busy trying to make sure that Bespin didn’t fall apart on his watch again. (Ben admired Uncle Lando for that. He definitely wished he had Lando’s ability to really keep people together and inspire them)  
  
“Happy Naming Day to you, happy Naming Day to you…” Han was getting a little too into singing it. “Happy Naming Day dear Bennnnji — ”  
  
“Ugh, Dad. Really? Benji?”  
  
Han smirked. “Happy Naming Day to yooooouuu…”  
  
Silence. And then Ben ended up laughing despite himself.   
  
Han’s eyes sparkled. “Sorry, kiddo.”  
  
“No, you’re not,” Ben said good-naturedly. He wondered absently if fathers had to have at least one moment of driving their offspring crazy. Like there was something in the contract they signed that required them to be embarrassing at least once.   
  
“So,” Han said, “How are you doing? You look tired. Chewie and I need to pay an annoying neighbor a visit?”  
  
“I’m okay, Dad.” Ben smiled as he spoke. “How are you?”  
  
Even as Han went into detail as to what happened ever since he’d been trying to make it back for Ben’s birthday (trying to, Ben couldn’t help but think. There was something where Ben couldn’t help but wish that he was there already, but it was no use saying that. It wasn’t Han’s fault that he got into some frequent scrapes and whatnot), Ben couldn’t help but listen, feeling like, at least for the moment, their problem with distance wasn’t as big as he thought it was. Holographic technology really could be miraculous, Ben couldn’t help but think. It could do things that you never thought you could do if you were just communicating through pen and flimsiplast.   
  
“Sounds like quite the adventure,” Ben said, grinning. “Wish I was there.”  
  
Han laughed. Then, more seriously, “I miss you, kiddo. I promise I’ve got something really special for you when I get home.”  
  
Ben nodded. “I bet.” Sometimes he swore that Han overvalidated him. Han definitely loved him that much.   
  
Leia called in next, apologizing for not being able to make it. Surprise surprise, she had a Senate meeting that was tying her up. Ben couldn’t say that he envied her. He couldn’t imagine going into politics himself, if he was to be perfectly honest. The whole idea sounded like a mess. But she promised that tomorrow, she’d be there to celebrate Ben’s Naming Day. Ben couldn’t help but wish she was able to cut back on her time with bickering, idiotic Senators, but it wasn’t like he could control it. It wasn’t like there was anything he could do, except understand. It didn’t stop that unpleasant voice in his mind that kept going Poe’s father wouldn’t miss a Naming Day — and he couldn’t help but squash it down. After all, it wasn’t like being late for a Naming Day was a big deal.   
  
“It’s okay,” he said, forcing a smile. “Really.”  
  
Leia nodded. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I know it’s hard, Ben.”  
  
“I can’t imagine being around bickering Senators is good for your health.”  
  
Leia actually did laugh at that. It was good to see. “I survive. Somehow.” A beat. “I miss you, Ben. Me and your father both do.”  
  
“I do too.” Maybe it wasn’t about missing a Naming Day, Ben thought. Maybe it was just about the desire to be a proper family, where no one would have to miss anything.  
  
Poe sighed even as Leia’s hologram faded. “You know, we could have our own Naming Day celebration,” he said. “Got something for you, but you’re gonna have to close your eyes. It’s a surprise!”  
  
Ben lifted an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to open the present with my eyes closed?”  
  
Poe winked at him. “I’ll give you a hint. It’s not something that you can tear the wrapping paper off.”  
  
Okay, now Ben could say that he was interested. Even as he looked at Poe, he could swear that there was such hope, such excitement, in the older man’s eyes that Ben was drawn in, captivated. After a while, he closed his eyes.   
  
“And don’t use the Force to cheat either,” Poe joked.   
  
Ben chuckled and even stumbling after Poe, Poe guiding him along, Ben couldn’t help but wonder what exactly Poe had gotten so excited about that Ben had to close his eyes for it. It took a while, but eventually, Poe called out, “Okay, Ben, you can open your eyes now!”  
  
In front of him was an honest-to-stars X-wing, and Ben couldn’t help but inhale sharply even as he took in the sight before him. He turned to Poe. “Poe, did you — ”  
  
“Yeah. It’s for you,” Poe said. “I was thinking we could go flying together. See the sky.” A beat. “You like it?”  
  
Even that idea was too wonderful to imagine. “Are you kidding? I love it. Thank you, Poe.”  
  
Poe grinned. Stars, Ben didn’t want to have Poe stop looking at him like that. He looked beautiful, he thought not for the first time. His eyes — it was almost like they were even smiling.   
  
“No problem,” Poe said. “Tell you what — how about we go flying? I can race you, if you want.”  
  
Ben beamed. “You are the most wonderful man I’ve ever met.”  
  
Poe laughed. “Well, careful. If I agree with you, my head might get too big for the cockpit.”  
  
“I doubt it ever would.” Somehow, the very idea that Poe could ever be egotistical in any way seemed almost implausible. He seemed too kind, too fundamentally open for that.   
  
They boarded their separate X-wings, and Ben couldn’t help but think of the vast skies that would inevitably rise to meet them even as they rose into the air. Poe’s voice crackled through the comm that Ben had. “Can you hear me?”  
  
“Loud and clear.” Ben said.   
  
“Good,” Poe said. “Tell you what — we’re gonna race each other over the trees. All the way to the Academy and back. It’s gonna be fun.”  
  
Ben grinned. “This should be fun!”  
  
“It will.”  
  
Ben started his X-wing, and blasted off into the sky. Even watching the deep, rosy colors of sunset staining the sky, gliding through it, Ben couldn’t help but grin in delight. Over the comm, Poe’s voice nearly blew it out with a “wooooooo!” and Ben couldn’t help but grin in delight. Flying was a passion of his. He just hadn’t gotten a chance to do it as often, what with his Jedi training and whatnot, and he envied Poe almost for getting to do it more often. (If Poe wasn’t in the New Republic Navy, which required him to go on some rough missions, he would have completely envied Poe) Even as the two young men zipped through the sky, Ben couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement, of elation.  
  
Eventually, they reached the ground, and Poe got out of his X-wing. Ben couldn’t help but watch him even as he swept his messy, tousled black hair out of his eyes, and he wondered how exactly Poe Dameron could be so heartbreakingly, breathtakingly beautiful.   
  
Poe laughed, but there wasn’t anything mean-spirited in it. “You did good, Ben,” he said, clapping Ben on the shoulder. Ben could feel his heart skip a beat. “Really. You are more of an amazing pilot than you realize.”  
  
“Poe…” Stars, Ben didn’t know what to say. The fact that such a talented man was telling him, Ben Solo, that he was more amazing a pilot than he realized…   
  
“It’s true. People say that I’m the best pilot. But you? You’re the best too.”  
  
“Don’t say that,” Ben said softly. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not good at anything.”  
  
“Yes, you are.” Poe looked up at him, and his eyes…right now, Ben could swear that he could drown in those eyes. Brown, deep eyes, and he wanted to know everything about Poe. Wanted to know because he couldn’t know him enough. “You’re amazing, Ben.”  
  
Of course, Kes, Uncle Luke, Alora and Mike joined them for the Naming Day celebration. There was something about it that was small, but cozy. Even getting things like new holovids, lightsaber crystals and things like that, Ben couldn’t help but feel a strange sort of peace, a strange sort of belonging that he initially thought was just there in holobooks and holovids. That feeling when just about everything fell into place, and there was nothing wrong, for the moment.   
  
Of course it had to end. It was after the last of the guests had left that Poe said, “You going home?”  
  
_For some definition of home_. There was still something in Ben that didn’t feel completely comfortable, that missed his parents, though he stuffed it down. At least he had Poe. And Uncle Luke. And his friends at the Academy.   
  
“Not sure,” Ben said.   
  
Even as Ben thought about it, about returning to his hut with the strange nightmares all but plaguing his head, he couldn’t help but wonder if staying at Poe’s house was even an option. Would Poe even appreciate him staying at his house, or would he see him as a burden? Ben knew he didn’t want to be a burden of any sort. There were times where he couldn’t help but feel that way, even though he couldn’t pinpoint anything where he could say that he’d been treated like one.   
  
(There had been times when he wondered if his parents left him on Yavin IV because he was too much to handle. Tantrums, nightmares, flare-ups of Force powers that could barely be controlled. Like he was unwanted)   
  
“Nightmares?” Poe said, softly. Ben couldn’t help but be pleasantly surprised at just how much compassion there was in those eyes. He supposed that he could drown in those eyes and not mind one bit, actually.   
  
Ben nodded. “They’re pretty bad.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Poe said, gently. “You know…you could stay here tonight if you want. Use the couch, or one of the bedrooms; it’s not like they’re getting much use anyway.”  
  
“I don’t want to be a bother — ”  
  
“You aren’t,” Poe said. “I mean, you could never be a bother, Ben. Not to me.”  
  
There was something about that, Ben thought, that was enough to warm him from the inside.   
  
“What do you say we watch some bad holos before bed? Just unwind your brain a bit.”  
  
Ben nodded. Uncle Luke would probably give him another lecture about blue light. But anything, in the end, to spend time with Poe. Anything at all. Watching bad holos — the funny-bad and not the enraging-bad — was just a bonus.   
  
They lay back in that moment, against the couch, before Poe said, “I’ll get the snacks.” He got up. Seemingly seconds later, he came back with two bowls of holo snacks. Popcorn, multicolored chocolates…that was just to name a few things in the bowl even as Ben looked over his bowl.   
  
“Couldn’t resist,” Poe said lightly. “Can’t have a holo night without snacks.”  
  
Ben looked over at him, feeling a tug of affection. “Of course not.”  
  
Given that Ben had to get to sleep, it seemed that bad horror holos were off the table, as hilarious as it was to realize the “monster” had an obvious zipper running up its back. Bad romance holos were on the table instead. Even as they put on the holo Starlight, the story of a female slave from Tatooine falling in love with a Sith Lord, they found something new to chuckle at, from the melodramatic dialogue from the Sith Lord’s Master (who was almost hilariously overdressed) to the cheesy-as-all-hell effects to everything else.   
  
“You know, I’m sure most evil people don’t talk like that,” Ben said even as the Sith Lord’s questionably-dressed Master went on a melodramatic rant about snuffing out hope. “I mean, I’m sure there’s a more convincing and authentic argument he can make for wanting to rule the galaxy than ‘I’m evil, hahaha’.”  
  
Poe looked worried for a moment, before Ben said, “Just from a writing perspective.”  
  
“Ah. You know me — I worry about you a lot, Ben.”  
  
Ben shrugged. “You don’t have to. I guess it’s my fault for expecting deep philosophical exploration of good and evil from this holo.”  
  
Poe snorted. “Maybe a little.”  
  
The truth was that Ben sometimes wondered if the Jedi were the right decision. The more the Voice showed him, the more he wondered if the Jedi could help everyone, from those impacted by war to the people on Jakku scavenging for parts to pay for their next meal. He thought of his uncle’s growing discontent and his disillusionment, a sort of searching for meaning that seemed to be further and further away. It was something that he doubted he could voice out loud to Poe, even though they were good friends. One of many things he couldn’t quite tell Poe.   
  
They continued to watch the holo, and Ben had to say that he needed more of this, just laughing until his stomach hurt. They didn’t have enough of that. They didn’t have enough time to just relax. They needed more of that. Ben could already feel his eyelids growing a bit heavier as he slumped back against the couch, until he was all but passed out against it even as the holo played on.


	4. Visions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Ben head out to the Unknown Regions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Of course, as a week went on, and long after Han and Leia made it to celebrate Ben’s Naming Day a second time, the novelty of being nineteen wore off, and the brief reprieve that Ben had from his nightmares…well, it didn’t last. Sooner or later, Ben found, they came back. Fragments of the future, he couldn’t help but think. Assuming that it was the future. Hadn’t Yoda, his uncle’s mentor once said that “always in motion was the future”? Ben could only hope that it was the case. Otherwise, he didn’t want to even think that something like that could happen. The Academy burning down. Poe being tortured on some sort of mysterious rack. His uncle dying, his father dying. He couldn’t even say them out loud to Uncle Luke. Even the very thought was enough to make Ben imagine his uncle’s disgusted, horrified reaction. What if he had to leave the Order? What if —   
  
He couldn’t bear to think about it. Maybe Uncle Luke wouldn’t — after all, he had tried to help Darth Vader and apparently succeeded. There had been instances of Jedi turning away from the Dark Side when they were given some semblance of a fighting chance…Revan, Juhani, Bastila Shan. Just to name three. What had the Jedi Master Zhar said? “Even those on the Dark path are not truly lost forever”?    
  
But how would he even begin to explain what was going on? “I’m having horrible dreams of Dad dying and Poe being tortured and other things; please don’t throw me out of the Order because I don’t want them to happen”? How did he explain that to his uncle? How could he even begin to?    
  
And Poe…he couldn’t tell Poe. Poe would hate him, and even if he was right to do so, Ben couldn’t bear the idea of Poe hating him. Poe meant too much to him for that to happen and be okay. Ben told no one, of course. It was one of those instances where he could be okay with all but splitting himself in two. As long as he wasn’t a bad person. As long as he wasn’t a mistake.    
  
***   
  
It was one of those instances entering the Archives that Ben saw Uncle Luke looking a bit disheveled, looking a bit tired and yet at the same time, more alert than Ben had ever seen him. The way he looked — Ben couldn’t help but wonder if there was something deeply wrong in his uncle’s eyes. Something rattled.    
  
“Are you all right?” Ben finally managed to say.    
Luke nodded. “I saw things,” he said. “There are places in the galaxy where few tread, and from there, I fear, the Dark Side is regrouping.”   
  
Even in the midst of his fear, Ben couldn’t help but feel a sense of vindication. At last, he wasn’t the only one who was having these visions, these nightmares. And yet, if the Dark Side was regrouping…hadn’t the Emperor died at Endor? What sense did that make? You couldn’t come back from being thrown down a reactor shaft and then blown up; that was as final as deaths could get, really.    
  
Then again, just because the Emperor was deader than dead didn’t mean his ideology didn’t live on in at least a few people. Evil never died, the stories went. No wonder the Dark Side was able to come back time and time again, especially with the sheer abundance of evil themes and thoughts that lived on in people. (Did droids ever have to worry about that? Ben thought)   
  
Luke sighed. “I know it sounds unbelievable to hear, Ben. I didn’t want to believe it either. I wanted to think that after Endor, we were done with this. But it seems that our fight against the Dark Side is far from over.”   
  
“Great,” Ben said sarcastically. Still, Ben thought, there was no doubt one benefit to this, if you could call it that. There was the opportunity, if anything, to test his training. To test his skills against a Dark Sider…   
  
Luke nodded. “We’ll have to leave someone in charge of the Archives while we investigate. And Ben…at least try and take this seriously. It’s not something you can just rush recklessly into, it’s not a chance to show off. It’s not like the training sessions either — you can get hurt or killed. And I don’t want that for you.”   
  
“Figured that,” Ben said. Calling it a game was hardly something that was appropriate. There was nothing that was even remotely like a game when it came to confronting the Dark Side.    
  
***   
  
One of the older Jedi, Kaida, was left in charge of the Archives. There weren’t many Jedi in Luke’s Temple, mostly thanks to the fact that building the Temple was still in progress, but Ben was at least glad someone was taking over Archive duties. Even the idea of his duties being somehow neglected because he and his uncle were going on a dangerous trip to the Unknown Regions wasn’t something that he would say he was comfortable with.    
  
Meanwhile, as Luke talked with Kaida, Ben spoke with Poe.    
“Just be careful,” Poe said. “I mean, if there are remnants of the Empire out there, I don’t think they’re to be trifled with. If, of course. Hopefully they’re just poodoo-stirrers.”   
  
“Hopefully,” Ben said. He sighed. “It’s weird. I mean, I thought that history was good as dead and buried at Jakku, and now it looks like the past is coming back to life. Funny how it seems to happen again and again. I mean, the old Jedi Council thought that the Sith were extinct and all the while, a Sith was playing them like a cantina band…”   
  
Poe shrugged. “Well, whatever happens, we’ll do what we can to fight them. That’s a promise.”   
  
Ben smiled. “That’s the best I can hope for.”   
  
“Yeah. It’s a certainty. Also, Ben?” Poe’s lips quirked a bit. “I prefer all of you comes back in one piece, got that?”   
  
“Yes, sir,” Ben joked.    
  
Poe smiled even as he looked at Ben. “So, I’ll see you around.” Then, more seriously, “And don’t forget to use your lightsaber. Lightsabers come in useful, got it?”   
  
Ben nodded. “Knew that.” He put a hand on Poe’s shoulder, and he could have sworn that Poe’s breath actually hitched in response. “And I’ll see you first, Poe. That’s a promise.”   
  
He hugged Poe. He couldn’t say what possessed him to do that. He could only conclude that he had this feeling, this familiar bad-feeling-about-this that the Skywalker clan seemed to have, that he and Uncle Luke weren’t going to make it out of this the same. The Unknown Regions, at least if you went off stuff like the legends of Darth Revan and Darth Malak, were the sorts of regions where when you went there, you didn’t come out of them the same.    
  
They drew away, and Ben left. He would have taken the X-wing that Poe got for his Naming Day, but he had a feeling that he and Uncle Luke needed something that could house two of them. Assuming, of course, that the two of them going into the Unknown Regions by themselves was a bad idea. Even if it wasn’t a trap…   
  
_That was years before you were born, Solo; get over it! _Ben shook those fears away, rubbing his temples gingerly even as he walked to the hangar with his uncle.    
  
His uncle turned to look at him. “You worried about our trip?”   
  
Ben shrugged. “What? Me? Worry?”   
  
His uncle sighed. “You’re about as subtle with your emotions as a brick, Ben. You’re worried. Talk to me.”   
  
Ben hesitated. Somehow, he didn’t want to tell him. He was already wondering, deep in his bones, if, should he tell his uncle about his worries about falling to the Dark Side, his uncle would somehow reject him, get angry with him. Think of him as some sort of traitor to the Order.    
  
Then, “Just hoping it isn’t a trap.” There. That was part of the truth at least.    
  
Luke shrugged. “If I may paraphrase the late Arren Kae, also known as Kreia or Darth Traya, it may be a trap…but traps work both ways.”   
  
Ben wrinkled his nose. “Never thought I’d see you taking advice from a Sith.”   
  
“She was an interesting character,” Luke said. “Dejarik-master, historian, Jedi, Sith…plus, even a broken chrono is right twice a day.”   
  
Ben shrugged. “Hopefully.”   
  
They headed towards the shuttle, boarded it. Even setting a course for the Unknown Regions, Ben taking the pilot’s seat, he hoped that his uncle was right.


	5. Hira

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Ben get in a pickle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author’s Notes: Yes, Hira’s monologue about names was inspired by Salem’s Lot. What can I say; I’m a Stephen King nerd.

The Supremacy loomed against the stars, almost like a leviathan in its own right, moving through space with a grace that one would hardly expect from something of its size. Even inside, Supreme Leader Snoke sat on his throne, his eyes closed in meditation even as he felt everything throughout the galaxy — the turn of the planets, the coldness of the stars. It had been part of him since he was but a youngling, feeling the currents of the Force. Being in a position where you could teach others to control it was a reward in its own right, truly. Before —  
  
Snoke crushed the memory in his mind. It mattered not. His former students were, respectively, dead for years and sleeping for years.   
  
It was while he was meditating that he could already feel the presence. Ben Solo’s presence. Drawing closer, a presence that seemed almost like a shining light fragmented with lines of darkness. Snoke should know. In a way, he put them there. Ben was Han and Leia’s child, but in a way, he was Snoke’s child too. The presence was getting closer, and Snoke could not help but feel at least a prickle of excitement. Everything was finally falling into place. The heir apparent to Lord Vader, the son of Darkness and Light alike. Son of ren.   
  
There was someone else with him. Skywalker. There was something in Snoke that could not help but feel an icy sort of dread. Skywalker was a destabilizer. An obstacle to the galaxy that Snoke sought to create. Bright, almost nauseatingly bright. It almost reminded him of better days, back when he was —  
  
But that had been a long time ago. Thousands of years. It wasn’t relevant, and it wasn’t exactly like Snoke missed it. It was a part of him he preferred to keep buried. To keep dead. No use resurrecting the dead when they deserved to stay dead, actually.   
  
There was a shifting in the ship, a shifting that seemed almost like the presence — a dark, burning presence, the sort that betrayed passion that would shatter galaxies — was coming closer. Closer, Snoke thought. In time, Arca Ren entered the throne room, and Snoke could feel her leftover resentment over the idea of possibly being replaced. She didn’t need to be upset, to take it personally. It wasn’t like she should have expected to stay. All things served ren — and that meant who got to stay and who got to know. Besides, Arca hadn’t done anything to fail him. Yet.   
  
“You felt it?” Snoke said.   
  
Arca nodded. “Skywalker’s with him. Challenging him — you might as well get between a nexu and her cubs.” A beat. “Are you certain that it’s a good idea?”  
  
“All things serve ren, one way or another, child.” Besides, Snoke thought, he doubted that he would come up against a nexu protecting their cubs while confronting the Skywalkers. It was likely that, for example, Leia Organa hardly knew of his existence. Right on schedule. All things served ren, even the ignorance of others.   
  
***  
  
Always her master’s obsession with ren, Arca couldn’t help but think. He was a very odd man, but he was wise as well — she could only assume that it all made sense eventually. She could only assume. She couldn’t help but feel at least a twinge of resentment. It was nothing that was new — always two there were, no more, no less. A master and an apprentice, with apprentice being singular. An apprentice. Yet the idea that she, who was dedicated to bringing order, would be tossed aside because someone else came along…  
It was petty to worry about, but Arca couldn’t help but resent that very idea.   
  
“Why do you want balance?” Arca said. “Why is it so important to you?”  
  
The Supreme Leader was uncommonly quiet. Then, “I’ve lived a long time, apprentice. Years upon years upon years…perhaps too long for my own good. I have seen the disputes of Jedi and Sith lay waste to the galaxy, tear it apart, ravage it. I am old, and even as I pass into the dusk of my years, I want at least some degree of stability. Stability. Ren. Even though neither Jedi nor Sith comprehend it, the galaxy needs it. Needs stability. Needs something to weed out the cancer of corruption that weaves its way through the Republic and the Force alike like cold durasteel. A different galaxy. A better galaxy.”  
  
“But he is just one man,” Arca said.   
  
Snoke sighed. “Have the matters of history not rested on the shoulders of individuals and their choices? Think of a pebble. The ripples it causes when thrown into water. They grow, expand — but someone has to throw that pebble.”  
  
Arca nodded. Somehow, her Master could be quite strange, she couldn’t help but think. Talking of pebbles and water and ren. As if that one man was somehow the answer to everything that Snoke was looking for.   
  
“Have I failed you in any way?” Arca said.   
  
Snoke’s eyes, sharp and blue, seemed to pierce through her. “That depends. Unlike my previous apprentices, you have not yet taken my hopes and expectations and dashed them to pieces.”  
  
“I pray I never do.” She wouldn’t just be disappointing Snoke, though she had a feeling that a disappointed Snoke was a scary Snoke indeed. She would be disappointing the First Order, and her promise to protect worlds that the Republic had simply chosen not to care about. To make sure that there weren’t any more parents who had to bury their children, or beings going hungry, or anything. She could still remember opening up to the Force, understanding what Snoke and to an extent Armitage Hux said about not acquiescing to disorder. Feeling every bit of suffering in the galaxy, and wanting to die.   
  
It had not just been her planet. It was every planet out there, and the Republic simply didn’t care.   
  
Snoke studied her, closely, and Arca could all but feel him reading her thoughts, scrutinizing her. Sometimes she swore that the meager ways of defending yourself against mind-reading seemed almost like cheap parlor tricks against Snoke’s level of it. “You love this galaxy, in your way.”  
  
“I hate it,” Arca said. “Even seeing such creatures…” She sighed. Behind the mask, it came out as a huff. “I can hear them. Feel them. They don’t stop, they don’t fall quiet. What kind of Republic doesn’t protect their people? What kind of Republic allows Senators to bicker like tu’kata over raw meat over decisions that affect billions? I wonder if the Jedi look over the Republic and turn away in disgust at what they swore to protect.”  
  
“Or beam with pride,” Snoke mused.   
  
Arca could only suppose. Even as she left to gather the other Knights, she couldn’t help but wonder if the Jedi would be heartless and foolish enough to do that. Then again, before she became Arca Ren, when she was Naomi Arcana, the Jedi hadn’t lifted a finger to help her. She had only helped herself.   
  
She wondered if Ben Solo would eventually learn the same. That the Jedi were greedy, uncaring beings who would only lift a finger to help you if they thought you were worthy of it, by their own lofty expectations. If you were somehow in a place of privilege. He would have to learn, she thought. Life was not a fairy tale, or a song, even if people wanted it to be.   
  
***  
  
Even as Ben jolted awake from a nightmare involving a carving of a figure in a gold robe suddenly shattering and breaking, and a sinister sort of cackle that echoed in his ears long after the nightmare ended, he could hear the sound of the comm system beeping. They reached some sort of planet, he knew that much. Of all the things that Ben expected to see, he didn’t expect to actually draw close to a planet. Even looking at it, at the surface that, at least to Ben’s eyes, looked more than a bit sickly, Ben couldn’t help but feel a sinking sort of familiarity. He couldn’t help but feel like the Force had somehow meant for them to come this way.   
  
“It feels familiar,” he said. “It’s like…”   
  
Luke nodded. “That’s Milara. Some call it the Wound That Did Not Heal.”  
  
“A cruel name for a planet,” Ben said.   
  
Luke nodded again. “They say that the first Jedi came from here. A planet broken by war. The Jedi were said to be established to bring peace to a galaxy at war, in strife. But of course, it went wrong.” A beat. “After having to deal with his lost students, Xendor and Arden Lyn, the first Jedi disappeared. No one knows what happened to him, though after his disappearance, the Jedi Order became crueler, colder.”  
  
Ben swallowed. Somehow, he couldn’t imagine anyone having to deal with such pain. Having a student who just abandoned you. He could understand that there were Jedi who saw their Padawans almost as akin to their offspring. It was a sharp contrast to Sith. Ben couldn’t help but wonder if, should the Jedi be parental types, the Sith were more abusive types who kept their “offspring” in line long enough for the “offspring” to either sink or swim. If the Sith were like a large abusive family, that would explain too much, Ben couldn’t help but think.   
  
“Uncle,” he said, “Have you ever thought that…maybe having Force powers can be more of a curse than a blessing?”  
  
Luke looked surprised. Then, “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I would say that…well, for lack of a better comparison, having Force powers has a Light Side and a Dark Side, and both are needed.”  
  
“Maybe.” Sometimes Ben envied his father. It had to be easy, going from place to place, feeling like you were the master of your own destiny and there wasn’t a mystical force field waiting to condemn you to the wrong side for so much as saying the wrong thing.   
  
“We’re about to touch down on Milara, Ben,” Luke said, gently. “Get ready.”  
  
Ben nodded. Even as the ship touched down, he couldn’t help but feel, truly, uncomfortable. There was something about the place that was enough to make Ben feel like he was being suffocated with the sheer emptiness that came from the planet. Like he was drowning in it.   
  
They took a step on the surface of Milara in that moment, and there was something about it that made Ben wonder if the planet’s pain was all but surrounding him. He could all but feel everything — the emptiness of the planet, the echoes of memory. Blood spilled on the ground, no doubt soaked in after all these years. The scorched ground. Ben would be surprised if there was any green left there.   
  
“Why would the Force bring us there?” he said. “Including your visions, Uncle?”  
  
Luke shook his head. “I wish I knew. I can only assume that looks can be deceiving.”  
  
“Does anyone live there?” Ben couldn’t imagine anyone living on that planet. It was one of those places that just seemed…empty somehow. Empty and sad and desolate and very much alone.   
  
“I think,” Luke said, “There’s only one way to find out.”  
They continued forward. Even as they did, Ben gritted his teeth. It was like agony all but ripping through him — imprints of fire that stained the sky red, children huddled under beds in orphanages, afraid of if the next bomb that hit would destroy them all —  
  
“Are you okay, Ben?” Luke said gently. “Can you feel it too?”  
  
“Too?”  
  
“There’s a great amount of pain and suffering in this place. Pain that hasn’t healed. There’s been a restoration effort, but I can’t say that it’s done yet.” Luke paused. “Still, where there’s even a spark of life, of beauty, it’s a good place to begin.”  
  
Ben could imagine. Even so, he wondered if there was a way to fix this broken planet and put it back together. To heal its cracks and fractures. You couldn’t right all the wrongs of the galaxy by yourself…  
  
_What if Skywalker’s wrong? _a familiar voice rumbled in his mind. _What if the Light Side doesn’t solve every problem you have? The Light Side pretends you can just solve your problems with patience and meditation, but those never solved anything. It was the people who acted, child, who made history. Never the people who waited._  
  
Sometimes Ben wondered if the voice was actually real. It would be easy to dismiss it as his inner monologue taking on a life of its own, but honestly, there were times when he wondered if it simply felt too real for Ben’s liking.   
  
Of course, there was the simple, honest fact that hearing voices wasn’t exactly a good sign.   
  
They continued across ground that seemed almost burned away, and Ben couldn’t help but feel like they were trodding on delicate ground. Almost like they were trodding on graves, or relics, anything like that. His feet crunched against dry grass, grass that seemed to have turned black from some sort of ravaging…  
  
And finally, they saw a figure up ahead. A Milaran, dressed in a black cloak with a good over her head. Underneath, Ben could swear that her eyes were green — green, like the grass should have been.   
  
There was an uncomfortable silence before the Milaran spoke. Her voice was a soft, musical sound, surprisingly pretty. “I did not expect anyone else to set foot on Milara.”  
  
“It’s a long story,” Luke said. “You could say that…chance led us here.”  
  
“Ren,” the Milaran said. “It takes you where it will, won’t you, even to a planet forgotten by the galaxy at large.” A beat. “The robes you wear, the lightsabers — you can say that your symbols precede you. It’s obvious that you are jetii, though you do not use the Force.”  
  
It took Ben a while to realize what she meant, and he could have smacked himself. “Oh…yeah,” he said.   
  
The Milaran stepped closer. “You burn like a sun,” she said to Luke. “Your sister’s offspring — he is different. There is much conflict in him, splintering through him, but if properly trained, he could be the savior. The child of ren.”

  
Ben couldn’t help but shiver. It reminded him of the times he had met with Maz Kanata, before he’d gone away. She was kind and funny, but when she started talking about things like seeing the same eyes in different people, Ben couldn’t help but be afraid. Worrying that she’d see into the darkest corners of his mind, where no one would want to go.   
  
“We’ve waited for you, young Solo,” the Milaran said, turning to Ben. “Follow me. You no doubt have many questions, and I would be failing in my duty if I did not give you and your mother’s brother the answers you seek here now.”  
  
Ben followed her in that moment, Luke with him. Even though they were following a Milaran that they did not know in any way, shape or form, Ben couldn’t help but feel at least a spike of excitement in his chest. At last, they were going to get answers.   
  
“What happened to this planet?” Ben said to the Milaran. “If you’ll forgive me asking.”  
  
“Venkar happened.” said the Milaran.   
  
“Venkar?” Ben said.   
  
“A fanatic,” Luke said. “Venkar was frightened of those who could wield the Force. He met his end at the hands of the First Jedi, after he underestimated him.”  
  
Ben snorted. “Go figure. You know, it’s like neither real life monsters nor fictional monsters seem to have a realistic assessment of their strengths and weaknesses. It’s always, ‘No, it can’t be; I’m invincible!’ and such…”  
  
The Milaran tilted her head. Then, to Luke, “Does he often talk this much?”  
  
Luke shrugged.   
  
They continued on. Ben continued talking. “I mean, if I were a villain, not that I would be, I’d keep a realistic assessment of my strengths and weaknesses. Like, could work on leadership skills. Could work on lightsaber combat.” A beat. “Then again, I think I’d suck at being a villain, and oh, stars, that really isn’t funny, is it?”  
  
Silence. Then Luke spoke. “You’re not wrong,” he said. “Palpatine was brilliant, but he became overconfident.” A beat. “But really, Ben, don’t make jokes about these things. It’s not really comedy material.”  
  
Even as Ben looked over at Luke, he could swear that there was worry in those eyes. Terrible worry, and a sort of love so powerful that it seemed almost dangerous. Ben could only hope that he wouldn’t disappoint his uncle in any way, shape or form.   
  
He turned back to the Milaran. “What’s your name?”  
  
She turned to look at Ben. Then, “Are names so important to you? ‘Vote for me for First Senator, for having a name alone says I am trustworthy!’ ‘Buy my product, for I have a name!’ Hire me, choose me in all things.” A beat. “But my name is Hira, if it pleases you.”  
  
“Um…okay.” Ben swallowed as he spoke. “A simple ‘I’m Hira’ wouldn’t have hurt.”  
  
“I know that,” Hira said. “But there is an important lesson in there that you need to learn. Names…humans place such an importance on them.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess.” Ben swallowed again. “I don’t like politics either. My mother’s in politics — ”  
  
“I doubt there’s a soul alive who doesn’t know that,” Hira said.   
  
“Yeah. How come the Republic hasn’t stepped in to help?”  
  
“Don’t you know?” Hira said. “The Republic cares nothing for worlds like ours.”  
  
Ben worried his lip with his teeth. Then, “You know,” he said, “If my mom were here, she could help.”  
  
“I’m sure her intentions are pure,” Hira said.   
  
They passed warehouses, taped-off zones and more. Even looking at those places, Ben couldn’t help but feel like the whole planet was somehow lopsided. Untreated scorched earth on one end, taped-off zones on the other. And ahead was an ivory-white facility, seeming in stark contrast to everything else just because of how beautiful it looked.   
  
It was then that Ben could swear that the Force was already shrieking a warning, shrieking in terror, and it was getting so grating that he almost wanted to cover his ears. And he couldn’t shake the whole idea that it was like in a bad horror holo when someone opened the door when common sense suggested that they run in the other direction from the monster inevitably lurking behind it. Like people who loved life would, Ben thought. He couldn’t say that there was necessarily a presence yet, anything but a scream that seemed to want to claw its way up from Ben’s throat. Luke seemed to sense Ben’s sudden overload of terror because he turned towards him. He didn’t say anything. Just a nod.   
  
Hira seemed to not notice Ben’s moment of terror. “They call it the Gardens of Healing,” she said, even as she led them inside.   
  
Ben looked around in that moment, at the almost blinding sort of white, and he couldn’t help but think of a medic’s office, or an institution. There were splashes of color there to break the unsettling white — potted plants, paintings — and Ben was at least grateful for that.   
  
Hira talked to them about the history of the facility. Ben tried to listen, at least. Tried to focus on what she was saying, on her peculiar turns of phrase that Ben could only assume were uniquely Milaran. He couldn’t take his mind off that feeling of something bad about to happen. _I’ve got a bad feeling about this._ He almost wanted to laugh at how predictable it sounded.   
  
Finally, they reached a door at the end of one hallway — one overwhelmingly blinding white hallway that made Ben think of stepping into the Force for some reason, becoming one with it. He shivered at the thought — and Hira opened it. And the armored figures in the room…  
  
“Force preserve us,” Luke said. “They were in my visions.”


	6. In The Hands of the Prophet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Luke are captured. It doesn’t end well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author’s Notes: So yeah...here there be torture. Fair warning. Also, I apologize for being so behind; being a linear writer is not my forte. Chapter title borrowed out of context from DS9.

The armored figures didn’t waste time even as they all but charged at Ben and Luke. It wasn’t one of those things where they didn’t charge one at a time. They seemed to charge all at once. Hira paused for a moment, almost like she was about to say something, to object, but the leader of the armored figures reached out and froze her in place.   
  
Ben couldn’t help but, despite the fact that they had all but been betrayed by this woman, feel at least a sort of horror for her — which nearly led him to miss the leader of the armored figures all but leaping upon him —  
  
Ben barely spun back to the fight in that moment. Blue lightsaber met red, and even as they struggled, Ben couldn’t help but notice how graceful, how strong, that the leader of the armored figures really was. Like a leaping nexu, Ben couldn’t help but think. They struggled against each other, and Ben could all but feel the other’s lightsaber pressing against his shoulder, all but scorching against fabric. It seemed to be a struggle, even with Ben being quite strong.   
  
He pressed back. The smell of smoking fabric, sizzling under the lightsaber being pressed to his shoulder, was almost too much, almost distracting, and when the lightsaber pressed against his shoulder — well, Ben could have sworn that it was actually burning there. A brand, against his shoulder, but not quite there. Not enough to leave a scar, no doubt, but just enough to burn.   
  
The Leader waved her hand in that moment. Even as darkness crept into Ben’s vision, he knew fear led to the Dark Side — fear led to anger, anger to hate, hate to suffering, the old saying went — but he was already afraid of what was going to come next. He could vaguely hear Hira begging Arca — that must be the leader, Ben thought. His assailant had a name — not to hurt him, or his uncle, and then Hira’s scream seemed to follow him even as all went black.   
  
***  
  
It was when Ben actually woke up that he couldn’t help but take in where he was. Cuffed to some sort of table. Around him was a sort of room that seemed to be almost diagonal in nature. Tilted. Even looking around it, everything about the architecture seemed designed if only to make the inhabitant feel dizzy. He looked around, trying to reach through the Force to feel something, anything at all, but there was nothing. There weren’t any signs of ysalamiri around, and the Force didn’t feel gone exactly, not gone as much as just blocked. Even struggling against his bonds was far from easy. There was something that he needed to do, something, anything, but it was like the means to do it were all but suppressed.   
  
Above him stood a Knight. A Knight wielding some sort of long, almost curved blade.   
  
“So the scion wakes,” the Knight said. There was something about their voice (likely a they, Ben thought. The armor seemed to be almost gender-neutral, if Ben was to be perfectly honest; it was almost as if the armor was more of a symbol than anything else) that was enough to send a chill up Ben’s spine. Enough of a chill that Ben could swear that he was all but submerged in the chills of Hoth. “I was wondering when he would.”  
  
“Who are you?” Ben said. “Where’s my uncle?”  
  
“You can call me Thraal. The Prophet.” A beat. “We all have our unique titles, scion. It depends on who we are.”  
  
“What do you want?” Ben tried to keep his voice steady, even though he could all but feel his heart hammering away in his chest. Even though he could hear and feel his voice shaking.   
  
“It’s simple,” said the Knight. “I want you to listen to me. I want you to accept what I have to offer. We wouldn’t torture you for information. We’re not that crude.”  
  
The Knight trailed the tip of their blade (their. It was the best idea that Ben’s fear-overloaded brain could really come up with) along Ben’s side.   
  
“So you’re still torturing me,” Ben said. “For what?”  
  
“To teach you,” said the Knight. “The Leader wants you on his side, though stars knows why he would bother with someone who wields a lightsaber like a drunken fool.”  
  
“Insults?” Ben said. “That the best you’ve got? Pathetic.”  
  
He expected the vibroblade. He didn’t expect the electric shocks that coursed through his body. Bright blue Force Lightning, coursing through him. He wondered, almost dazed, why Force Lightning was almost always blue. It was the best he could concentrate on even as the current all but pulsed through him.   
  
After what seemed like too long, the lightning stopped, and Ben was already gasping for breath. “Is that the best you can do?” he said. “That’s pathetic. You honestly think torture is going to win me over to your cause?”  
  
“It’s just a taste of the Dark Side.” Thraal said. “Besides, what if you were more open to an…alternate form of persuasion?”  
  
Down the hall, he could practically hear his uncle’s voice, almost raw in nature. “You’re not going to win. Against me, against Ben…aah!” Even as Ben all but heard that horrid sort of slice, he understood. With horrible, too-sharp clarity, he understood.   
  
Dear Force, he wished he didn’t have to.   
  
Ben couldn’t help but feel like his blood had frozen over. “No,” he said. “Please. You wouldn’t.”  
  
“You think I’m bluffing?” said Thraal Ren. “I don’t bluff about these things.”  
  
“You can’t hurt him!” Ben shouted. Stars, he was certain that he was going to blow out his voice from shouting, but he couldn’t let this armored figure hurt his uncle.   
  
“Can I?” the Prophet said, evenly.   
  
And down the hall, Ben could all but swear that his uncle’s screams of pain were going to ring in the caverns of his skull long after he got out of here — assuming he got out of here at all.


End file.
